User blog comment:Bluestripe the Wild/Redwall Wars:Civilizations/@comment-1031927-20091014131658

I look at the ship sailing by. It is still and silent, with not a living creature on board.

Finnbarr has wanted to be alerted of any ships, yet I am tempted to check it out myself. Ah, well.

Orders are orders.

I walk to the back of the ship, where Finnbarr steers. "There's a ship o'er that aways, about 30 degrees an' 50 minutes north," I say.

He lashes the tiller and stands, scrutinizing the ship carefully. "'S a woodlander ship," he says at last, "She's no threat to us."

Something moves on the other ship and I peer at it as Finnbarr returns to the tiller. For a moment, the moon comes out from behind the clouds.

I scream and Finnbarr even gives a little gasp then draws his blades, calling all hands on deck with his powerful voice.

All the woodlanders on deck are slaughtered, ripped apart like paper dolls though a shredder or a turnip after sword practice.

Dead.